It’s 6.11am and my brain has been whirring away since 4am. I had a bad dream and then a mosquito attacked me and I haven’t been able to get back to sleep since. Oh yes, also my pug was panting all night. It’s hot so I can’t really blame him but that didn’t stop me from putting him down on the floor around 5.30am. He seems to prefer it though (or at least the panting has calmed somewhat).

Aside from all the little disturbances, it’s mostly been my brain that’s been keeping me up. Despite having plenty of awake time, it seems to think the hours between 4am and 6am are optimum spots to consider things like: social media posts, things to raise in today’s management meeting and what/who’s been annoying me lately. While I agree that these are all valid things to think about, I definitely don’t agree that 4am – 6am is the best time to do so. I mean, come on. I went to bed around 11pm, and, thanks to my over-active brain, I now need to operate all day on 4 – 5hrs broken sleep. Thanks for nothing, cerebrum (not sure if it’s actually the cerebrum’s fault but I have no patience to run a google search right now on what part of the brain is actually responsible for this travesty).

This doesn’t happen to me all that often but, when it does, goddamn it’s frustrating. I can only imagine how maddening it must be for people with insomnia. There have been times when I’ve felt it coming on where I’ve popped half a Valium just so I could be done with it. Tonight (or should I say, this morning?), I realised too late that I wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep and a Valium at that point would have left me groggy all day. If those are my options, I’ll go with tired and cranky 99% of the time. Don’t know why. Sucker for punishment maybe.

Then again, maybe I should be grateful. After all, some of what my brain is throwing at me is actually useful stuff it hasn’t been able to come up with during the day. Perhaps what I need to do is have a chat with it about how to take notes (so it doesn’t forget) and then it can raise all these great ideas with me in the morning, when it’s a reasonable time to have these discussions. Surely this is something the brain would be open to? I mean, we all have to get along in this body of mine. No point pissing one another off unnecessarily. Of course, this assumes my brain is benevolent and interested in helping me and working together. If it’s not… we’ll, let’s not consider that.

When does your inspiration come to you? While driving? When in the shower? While running or going for a walk? These all sound very nice. Maybe not super convenient if you quickly want to write something down but, all in all, not too terrible. My brain is an asshole. It gives me my “best” ideas right before I go to bed.

Take last night for example. I’d wanted to start on my personal essay assignment for uni but wasn’t feeling inspired about my topic. So instead, I wrote a few posts and, still not feeling inspired, decided to watch some teevee and catch up on my blog reading while eating Nutella straight from the jar (as you can see, I can multi-task like a motherfucker). Midnight rolls around so I take myself off to bed.

Lo and behold, my brain starts spitting out golden wordage for my uni assignment. At midnight. When I need to go to sleep. And it doesn’t stop. It has plenty of ideas that it wants to share with me and, of course, I don’t want to lose them so I quickly type them up in my phone’s notes. But seriously though, it had hours and hours after I got home to come up with this shit but it decides no no no beddy byes time is the right time. I was worried the light from my phone screen would bother Jared so I actually contemplated getting out of bed and writing but thought, ‘no, fuck you, brain. That’ll just encourage you.’

So tonight, I start my assignment based on my previous scribbles and the new stuff my brain cooked up last night. I really want to get a first draft done this week while we’re on study break and I have heaps of time. Once again, I’m not feeling particularly inspired but I’m going to force myself because I’m not having a repeat of last night. Do you hear me brain?!? This shit is not going to fly.

I want to ask but that would defeat the purpose of him trying to sleep. He’s tossed and turned each night for months now. I watch him struggle to find peace in his own bed, his own head. I wonder what plagues him. My mind jumps to the worst conclusions, making it about me.

In the mornings his eyes are puffy and ringed with black. He drags himself out of bed and through each day, only to crawl back into bed exhausted… And awake. Undeniably awake. His sighs punctuate each turn, never a full stop, always a semi colon or an ellipsis. Never the end, just the beginning of another cycle of doze and start awake.

It dawns on me that I’m living this with him. As long as he’s been sleepless so have I. His insomnia has infected me and, if I look in the mirror, I’ll see the same pale face and dark ringed eyes.

***

We went on a long drive over the weekend and Darlin’ by Houndmouth came on via Pandora. I’d never heard it before but the chorus has lyrics that go “Darlin’ darlin’ darlin’, why don’t you sleep at night?” and somehow it inspired the above.

I’m having trouble sleeping. And I’m someone that needs 7 to 8 hours sleep to prevent feeling like I might end up killing some poor fool throughout the day. So yeah, you could say it’s a problem.

Things aren’t quite drastic yet but they’re on the way. I’m waking up before it’s reasonable to do so considering the time I went to bed. I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep or it takes forever. This then contributes to my total lack of motivation for getting out of bed. It’s a vicious cycle.

The start of school next week is definitely freaking me out. I’m still trying to organise my birthday weekend away. A few last minute drop outs have me scrambling to fill beds. And we can’t forget the ongoing search for a second part-time job. I know I have things to worry about so it’s not really surprising this is happening but that doesn’t make it any less annoying when I’m awake at 6.30 in the morning after having only gotten to bed at 1am.

I used to take an anti-nausea medication that was essentially Valium and, at the moment, I’m both glad and sad we don’t have any in the house. If I find myself sleepless again at 4.30am, I will definitely take a tablet if it means I’ll be able to get some frigging sleep. Hell, I’ll admit it. I’ve done it before and I’ll probably do it again. I’m not proud of myself but I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to lay awake for hours on end when I have the perfect magic bullet medicine sitting up in a cupboard somewhere just waiting to be swallowed. That’s its damn job! Does it really matter that I’m taking it to go to sleep rather than to stop my nausea? Ok, don’t answer that one.

*Sigh* I know it will all pan out eventually but, in the meantime, I’m tired and cranky and full of resentment towards anyone that looks well-rested and pleased at the course of their existence.